


Kismet

by gay_as_heck



Category: Greek and Roman Mythology, Hellenistic Religion & Lore, The Iliad - Homer
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/F, Implied Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-14
Updated: 2015-06-14
Packaged: 2018-04-04 08:26:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4131022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gay_as_heck/pseuds/gay_as_heck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The minute Cassandra lays eyes upon her, she knows they are doomed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kismet

The minute Cassandra lays eyes upon her, she knows they are doomed.

Helen of Sparta (Troy, now) walks through the grand hall, her robe fluttering behind her, Paris' hand in her own, and with each step she takes the ever present feeling of doom weighs more heavily upon Cassandra's heart.

Although she should be used to it by now (and she is, but she isn't), the visions still leave her gasping for breath. A flash of blood, of skin on skin, golden hair intertwined with raven locks, Hector's lifeless body, the only home she's ever known up in flames.

It is all she can do to stay upright, to pretend she has seen nothing, knows nothing. Pretend that the most beautiful woman in the world hasn't brought their end.

"We are doomed," she whispers, and only Hector hears her, turns to her with a curious look, then a sympathetic smile as he pats her shoulder before he continues forward, preparing to greet his new sister. She doesn't know whether he believes her visions or not, but he is one of the few who has never treated her harshly.

She returns her eyes to the golden woman before her, prepared to put on the facade she must wear in order to survive. Their eyes meet over Hector's head as he dips it, and she once again has a vision, this time of two pairs of red lips pressing together, hungry with want, and she blinks as the vision dissolves.

She leaves before the introductions reach her, unwilling to ruin everything for her brother's bride (although, really, it is _she_ who has ruined everything). Besides, it is easy to slip away when you have 49 sisters.

She does not see her again for another fortnight. She happens upon her on the wall, and is about to walk away unnoticed when Helen whispers, "Do you fear me, sister?"

"I am not your sister," Cassandra replies, turning on her heel before Helen can speak.

The next morning she sees Helen waiting outside the throne room, her bronze arms taut with worry. 

"Helen of Troy," Cassandra speaks, startling herself, "I was told your arms were whiter than swan feathers, and yet here you are with limbs dark enough to rival Hector's."

Helen smiles, slightly. "Do not believe everything the stories say."

The door swings open, and Helen is gone before Cassandra can contemplate her answer.

It is yet another fortnight before they meet again, this time during the last meal of the day. She seats herself next to Cassandra, instead of Paris, and Cassandra is surprised. Not only because Helen isn't with her husband, but because she sat next to her. Most people know not to sit near her.

"Greetings," Helen says, smiling, tucking her dress in under her, and Cassandra nods her head at her in response.

They eat in silence, amidst all the chatter, under the scrutinizing stares of all 99 of Cassandra's siblings and their spouses. Cassandra's parents avoid staring, but she knows that they, too, are curious about this newfound friendship between the two of them.

Towards the end of the meal, Helen places her hand on her thigh, her fingers shaking slightly, and it is then that Cassandra understands. 

Helen leaves soon after, and Cassandra slips away moments later. 

She enters her room to find Helen already waiting for her, lounging on her bed, limbs sprawled carelessly across the silken sheets, her hair shining from the lamp light.

"How did you know?"

Helen chuckles, propping herself up on her elbows. "Your dear brother told me of a woman who had dared to reject the sun god himself, forever cursing herself, and I dared to hope."

"And if you had been wrong?" Cassandra asks, crossing her arms.

Helen shrugs, her bare shoulders glistening with the slightest sheen of sweat. "No one has ever refused me."

"Are you so sure that I won't?"

"Yes."

Cassandra furrows her brow.

"Our destinies are unchangeably entwined. You, a woman who has been cursed by the gods with a gift such as yours, know that better than I do."

Cassandra has no argument, and falls into bed with the most beautiful woman in the world. 

Afterwards, as Cassandra lays on Helen's heaving breasts, her fingers tracing patterns across the smooth skin of her abdomen, Helen weeps. 

Cassandra does not ask why, only places her palm on Helen's cheek and kisses her for the first time, a desperate, needy kiss, and she knows then that Helen has indeed brought her end.


End file.
